Avengers One-shots
by HistorianKate
Summary: One-shots and scenes from the universe of our favorite superheroes.
1. Chapter 1

**#1**

 **Just a little random scene that came to me; it's related to my fic _Saving Grace_. Just a cute little Peter and Grace fluff.**

* * *

After dinner, the Avengers were all heading into the living room for a movie. Peter grabbed his empty plate, and followed Grace, intending to put his dirty dishes away for Grace. He passed into the kitchen...and nearly plowed right into her back. He peeked around her to see what had stopped her in her tracks.

A Mount Everest of dishes, pots, pans, and coffee mugs towered from the sink.

"What happened here?" Peter asked, eyes wide.

"I took a couple of sick days. That's what," Grace dead-panned. "Looks like I'm on KP tonight." she huffed a stray curl out of her face, squared her shoulders, and marched right up to the sink. "My playlist, please, Mr. JARVIS."

"With pleasure, Miss Grace," the AI answered, sounding like a head butler responding to the lady of the house. Thirties and Fourties swing music came over the kitchen speakers. Peter just stood in the doorway, unsure of what to do. "Shall I call Captain Rogers or Sergeant Barnes to assist you, Miss Grace?" JARVIS asked.

"No," she shook her head as she pushed up her sleeves. "They're catching up with their pals; I can take care of this."

There was a beat of silence.

"...It will take you some time to complete this task on your own."

Peter half-expected to hear the AI add a "my lady" at the end.

"I'll be fine; I'll have you for company," she sent a grin up toward the ceiling for JARVIS's benefit.

"And me," Peter piped up, making a split-second decision.

Grace turned to him. "If you stay, you help," she stated. "You sure you don't want to go talk shop with the fellas?"

"I'm sure."

"Okay." She tossed him a dish towel. "Then get your spider-tail over here and dry."

The towel hit him in the chest, and a grin spread across his lips as he caught it. "Yes, ma'am."

Thirty minutes later, Clint passed the kitchen and heard the Andrews Sisters crooning "Boogie-Woogie Bugle Boy", overlayed by giggles, laughter, and singing. He peeked through the door.

The mountain of dishes was about half done, but that was not what put a smile on the archer's face.

Peter and Grace were facing each other, dishes momentarily forgotten. Grace was singing into a wooden spoon and Peter was "playing" a trumpet/bugle on a soup ladle. Both were grinning form ear to ear as they jammed to the wartime music.

"Can you save a picture of this, JARVIS?" Clint whispered.

"Already done, sir," JARVIS softly replied.


	2. Chapter 2

**#2**

 **Another random little snippet of Avengers' Tower life based on _Saving Grace_ that came to me.**

* * *

"Come on; won't someone try them?" Grace asked as she placed a tray of brownies on the bar counter in the living room.

While she had been mixing the batter, Clint decided to pop down out of a vent in the kitchen at the very moment that she was measuring out the mint extract for dark chocolate chunk mint brownies and caused her to spill at least twice the called for amount of mint into the batter. So far, no one was willing to try the extremely minty smelling treat.

Half an hour later, grace came back from the kitchen with a new, "correct" batch of brownies, only to find the old tray had disappeared. In its place, she found a note, written with elegant penmanship in green ink:

 _Miss Rogers will have Prince Loki's eternal gratitude if she would continue to supply such divine confections as these for His Majesty's pleasure, as they are the only Midgardian delicacy he finds worthy of a god._

"Whatcha got there, Miss Wonderland?" Tony asked as he slipped past her to get behind the bar.

"Oh, nothing," she answered airly, tucking the note away in her apron pocket.

Two days later, Grace took some of her spare time and baked another pan of the extra minty brownies, and left them by Loki's door. Less than five minutes later, she walked by and found the fresh pan gone and the original one, containing only a few crumbs, in its place.

And if Loki was a little less...frosty...with her from then on, she just pretended to not notice.


	3. Chapter 3

**First Meeting: Tony Stark**

 _Reader's POV:_

It was Friday; the last day of your first week as Miss Pepper Potts' personal assistant. You could barely believe that you were working for the Pepper Potts of Stark Industries.

You glanced up at the clock; almost 2:30. Time for Miss Potts' afternoon cup of coffee. Your year and a half of barista-ing in a local coffee shop as a high-schooler paid off when you were able to do fancy coffees without having to go all the way to a Starbucks. You made your way to one of Stark Tower's many kitchens and began preparing Miss Potts' favorite afternoon beverage.

"Is it that time already?" A masculine voice rang out behind you. You whirled around to find none other than the infamous Tony Stark standing at the counter across the room, the kitchen island between the two of you. A half-assembled toaster Sat on the counter by him, parts and wires scattered around it.

"I-I'm sorry?" you stuttered in surprise.

"You're here to make Pepper' s coffee, right?"

Yes."

"Then, it must be about 2:30," he stated, turned to face you and leaning back on the counter behind him. You could now see the faded AC-DC emblem on the tee shirt he wore with a pair of old, stained jeans. It was definitely a "bumming around the house all day" type of outfit, a far cry from the fancy Italian designer suit he wore in all of the magazine pictures and TV interviews. When you imagined meeting the billionaire, (and that's all you ever thought it would be; a daydream) being in a kitchen making coffee while he fiddled with a toaster in an rock band tee and old jeans was not what you imagined.

"And you would be right, Mr. Stark," you replied, turning back to the task at hand.

"Just 'Tony', sweetheart," he immediately answered as he turned back to his toaster. "I don't care much for ceremony like that." He paused for a beat. "I haven't seen you around before, but you are here for Pepper's afternoon brew, so you must be her new assistant."

"You got me," you grinned, trying to act normal as possible. Reaching into the pantry, you grabbed one of black canvas aprons hanging there along with Miss Potts' favorite coffee. You donned the apron and began setting coffee machines in motion.

"Hey, new girl you got a... apron?" You looked back over your shoulder to find Tony staring at you. "Of course," you said. "No good barista is without one. Besides, this coffee cam stain my clothes, and I would rather deal with that."

He thought about it for a minute. "Good enough, I guess," he shrugged. "So, you were a barista once?" he asked, watching you expertly put Miss Potts' drink together.

"In high school," you answer, not looking at him. "One and a half years."

"Nice."

"...And...done!" you tell yourself as you put the finishing touch on the drink. Knowing you were running late because of talking with Ton-Mr. Stark, you quickly ripped off the apron and began tidying up in double time.

Suddenly, a large hand stopped your much smaller one as you feverishly wiped down the counter and all of the equipment. "I'll take care of this." You look up to find Tony right there with a surprisingly kind look in his eye. He had always seemed so distant on TV. Charming, but distant. Now, here he was, the world-renowned playboy and billionaire trying to clean the kitchen for you.

"But..."

"No buts," he interrupted. "Gimmie that." He tugged the rag out of your hand. "Go deliver Pepper' s java," he ordered, making shooing motions with his hands.

"Mr. Stark-"

"Ah-ah! What did I tell you about that?"

You huffed. "But-" you tried again, but he just pointed to the door.

"Her coffee is getting cold, barista girl."

You sighed, praying that no one found out you let the Tony Stark clean up after you. Grabbing the coffee, you made your way to the door. At the doorframe, you paused and looked back over your shoulder. "Thank you...Tony."

A small grin spread on his face. "Don't mention it, sweetheart."


	4. Chapter 4

**First Meeting: Bucky Barnes**

 _Reader's POV:_

It was grocery day. Not just any grocery day, but the grocery day just before Christmas. You had to get all of the ingredients for the stuff you promised to take to Aunt Jan' s house for Christmas dinner.

All of the various sugars and spices, molasses, and flour for gingerbread, butter cookies, and spiced cranberry scones were all ready plunked into your cart, and now you were headed for the produce section for the fruit needed for Christmas scones and fruit salad. You quickly found the apples, oranges, and bananas needed for the salad and turned to finding the cranberries for scones.

You soon spotted them. Right next to a imposing figure that made you nervous from halfway across the room. He was tall and broad-shouldered; the hoodie he wore did nothing to hide the fact that he was very well built. However, the shaggy hair, scruffy five o'clock shadow, and ball cap pulled low over his eyes gave him a dark vibe.

Maybe your family did not need scones this year. Maybe you could do...apple ones. Yeah. Wait...Nope; cranberry is Grandma's favorite. She will be devastated if there are not any spiced cranberry scones. It's a really good thing you love her so darn much...

You swallowed your fears and head straight for the cranberries. You can see the tall, dark, and scary man beside you out of the corner of your eye. He was very carefully selecting...plums? Who eats plums anymore? Why would he be getting plums?

Shaking your head, you quickly grabbed the cranberries you came for, but in your distracted state, you did not fully notice everything around you. As you pushed forward to head to the checkouts, someone hurriedly shoved past you, knocking into you forcefully and causing you to lose your grip on your cart.

You began to topple over with a little "oh!" of surprise. However, a strong arm around your waist and another across your shoulders stopped you from falling into a wall of carrots, celery, and lettuce. Looking up in shock, you found your savior.

It was man the man from before, his plums laying on the ground beside his momentarily forgotten grocery basket.

"You alright, miss?" He asked quietly, revealing a faint Brooklyn accent.

You looked back up at him, and this time you were met by a pair of concerned blue-gray eyes.

"Y-Yeah...yeah, I'm okay..." you stammered back.

Very carefully and gently, he righted you, waiting to remove his arms until he was sure you could stand by yourself. He muttered something that sounded Russian as he glared at the back of your assailant' s head.

"Thank you...for saving me," you said softly, recapturing his attention.

"Pleasure to be of assistance, ma'am." The smallest of grins turned the corners of his lips upward. His piercing eyes softened as he refocused on you.

"Does my hero have a name?" you asked, feeling emboldened.

The faint sparkle in his eyes faded as he lowered them and ducked his head, mumbling something about "not a hero."

"Of course you are-" You were interrupted by the approach of a tall blonde man who was just as muscular as your savior. He looked a bit familiar, but you could not place how you would know him.

"You find it all, Buck?" He asked, then noticed you. His gaze darted to his friend. "Eveything okay?"

"Buck" glanced back at his abandoned basket. "Yeah."

"And this is?" The blonde looked at you.

"_," you quickly supplied. "Your friend was just being a knight for an oblivious damsel-in-distress."

"Oh?" He looked at Buck.

"Some jerk knocked her over," Buck shrugged back. "I just kept her from getting bruised up by the vegetables."

A smirk played across the blonde' s face. "Oh, if that's all."

"Yes, that's all, Steve," Buck defended.

"Then, why don't you give the lady's hands back and let her finish her shopping," Steve answered.

You and Buck looked down to find that, at some point, your hands had found their way into his. One was warm and gentle; the other was felt hard under the black leather glove encasing it. He suddenly jerked them away, shoving them into his hoodie pocket. His head was ducked once more, and a faint blush colored his face.

Sensing his discomfort, you decided to take your leave. "We'll, thank you again for saving me from falling into the carrots, Buck," you smiled at him, hoping to ease his embarrassment.

He mumbled something back.

"Sorry?"

"It's 'Bucky'." His gaze darted up to you for a moment. "My name is Bucky."

Your smiled grew. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Bucky." You offered your hand.

A shy but genuine smile spread across his lips. "The pleasure is all mine, Miss ." He gently took your hand and placed the ghost of a kiss on back of it. This time it was your turn to blush. He slowly backed away, letting you fingers slip through his as he turned to retrieve his basket of fruit and follow his friend.

Your hand felt cold and empty, and a strange sense of loss bloomed in your chest.

Little did you know, he felt exactly the same.


	5. Chapter 5

**First Meeting: Steve Rogers**

 _Reader's POV:_

It was a quiet, uneventful morning at the Manhattan Downtown Library. Like most Monday mornings, very few people had come in yet; kids were in school, and adults were at work.

You were stocking the shelves in the history section with new books that had arrived just that morning, but you soon discovered that the new biography of Winston Churchill need to go on the top shelf. With a sigh, you mentally bemoaned your measley 5' 0" height and retrieved the rolling step-ladder from the archive room. You reluctantly climbed the steps after locking the wheels in place. While most people would now be able to read the top shelf easily, you, however, still had to stretch up pretty far to get the book to its proper place.

"Excuse me, ma'am-" A deep masculine voice suddenly rang out on your left. You flinched violently in surprise, causing you to drop the book you held to the floor and your signature little mousey "eep" scream to escape your lips. Whirling around you met a blue gaze just before the world began moving beneath you.

The "locked" wheels of your ladder had popped open when you jumped, meaning it began to roll away with you still on it. As it rolled forward down between shelves, you lost your balance and began to fall backwards.

"I've got you!"

The next you know, you are landing right in some stranger's arms, your shoulder in one arm, and your legs draped over the other one.

Thick, muscular arms.

"You okay, ma'am?"

You looked up and your eyes met a concerned blue gaze.

"Um...yeah...thanks," you breathlessly murmured back, still trying to process what had just happened. Carefully, your savior lowered your feet to the floor, his hands lingering at your waist to steady you.

"I'm so sorry for startling you, Miss. I just wanted to know if..."

You looked up as you adjusted your hat back in place and found he was tall. Compared to you, really tall. Like 6' 2" at least. And his leather jacket did nothing to hide the fact that he was well-built. He had handsome features and genuine feeling to him. Blonde hair in a nice comb- over. Gorgeous blue eyes.

Wait, what?

"Sorry, what we're you asking me?" you asked, blushing furiously as you realized you had no idea what he had said.

"Um, I was hoping you could recommend a few books to me," he answered.

Thanks heavens; a safe topic. "Sure, what subject are you interested in?"

"Mid to late 20th century history. Basically anything that happened after WWII."

Perfect! "Follow me." You moved to show him the way, but stopped when you felt something at your middle. Looking down, you found his hands were still on either side of your waist. He realized this too and whipped his hands away as if they suddenly were burnt, stuttering out a profuse apology and blushing a brilliant red.

Normally, you would have found a strange man touching you creepy and uncomfortable, but somehow this time it felt different. You just knew this guys was different from the rest.

"It's okay," you waved off his apology with a smile. You led him a few aisles over and began picking books for him. "A few on the 50's, the 60's, the 70's..." You grabbed his sleeve without thinking as you dragged him behind you to each new decade. You piled about ten books in his arms before stopping. "There, that should get you started!" You grinned triumphantly at the stack.

He glanced at the pile you had created in his arms in a mere two minutes. "Yes, ma'am; I think you're right."

"Anything else I can help you find?" You asked, pushing your slipping glasses back up the bridge of your nose.

"This was it."

"Well, let me get this run-away ladder back, then we can check you out." You went back to retrieve the step-ladder which had rolled out into the main aisle.

"Here, Miss, let me help you with that." Tall, Strong, and Blonde plopped his books down on a nearby table and rushed to assist you. "Where do you need it to go?"

"Over here," you pointed shyly, impressed by his chivalry.

He moved it into position and knelt down to lock the wheels in place. "Well, I found your problem; the locking mechanism on all four wheels is broken.

"Seriously? Again?" you moaned. "Jeff just fixed this thing last week! New wheels and everything!"

"I'll hold it while you put your books away."

You shook your head vehemently. "Oh, no, Sir; I can't ask you to work-"

"Then it's a good thing I'm offering," he answered with the cutest, crooked grin you had ever seen on a grown man. "and if anyone asks, I'm just making small talk with the prettiest dame in the place."

You could not suppress a shy smile as your heart gave a funny little flutter. "The prettiest dame, huh?"

He immediately backtracked. "Oh, no! That's not what I meant to say-"

"Oh."

"I- I mean, you're a lady. Not a dame," he hastily added. "Not that you're not pretty; because you are p-pretty." He looked like a guilty school boy.

"You...You think I'm pretty?" you blurt out.

"W-Well...Yes, ma'am. Very." He answered, blushing.

"That's sweet of you." You tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear and gazed down at your shoes. "Both my ex and current boyfriend gives me the impression that they did me a favor by dating me."

"Then, they are blind jerks," he answered firmly. You raised your head and found he was completely serious and seemed quite offended at the idea of your boyfriend's attitudes.

"Thanks," you murmured, smiling bashfully again. He answered with shy, crooked grin of his own.

Firmly gripping the support poles of the step-ladder, he motioned for me to step up. Still grinning, you grabbed the books that needed to go on the top shelf and climbed to the top step of the ladder, stretching up onto your tip-toes to reach the desired shelf. You heard quiet little chuckle at your struggle.

"Something funny down there?" You asked lightly.

"No, ma'am. Not at all." His face was serious, his eyes danced with mirth.

"Uh-huuuuuhhhhhhh..." you huffed playfully, subtlely letting him know his "innocent" face had not fooled you.

"If I may," He offered a hand to help you down.

You quirked a eyebrow and looked at his hand, pretending to think about before answering. "Oh...I suppose you may," you answered loftily, laying your small hand in his and hoping he would not notice the numerous papercuts. His warm hand closed around yours and you felt the fluttering in your chest again. "Shall we see about checking you out now?" you asked moved you reached the bottom.

"Yes, ma'am." He gathered up his books, and you both made your way to the counter. You scanned out the books to his card.

Hmm...his name is Steve Rogers...sounds familiar...

"Well, thank you for coming in, Mr. Rogers," you said. "Your books are due back in three weeks. Enjoy!"

He grinned back at you. "Thank you very much, Miss...?"

You shyly gave your first name.

"Miss _. Maybe I'll able to get some to new recommendations when I bring these back?" He asked hopefully.

"Maybe," you grinned back.


End file.
